


Time Out from the World

by badcircuit



Series: Things that Never Happened [2]
Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:05:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badcircuit/pseuds/badcircuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oops, I RPF’d and got just a little porny with it.  This is sort of a continuation of Snowy Night and if you want it to be sweet and innocent like that, stop reading at the tilde (~).</p><p>Summary:  You and Renner are back in the cabin in the middle of nowhere. Special appearances by bare feet, glasses and William Brandt’s sweater of sex. </p><p>This didn’t happen and doesn’t that just suck.  All post beta mistakes are mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Out from the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disturbedbydesign](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disturbedbydesign/gifts).



It's snowy and freezing out but it's warm and cozy in your little cabin in the middle of nowhere.  So warm and cozy that he's fallen asleep, fully dressed in a blue button down and worn jeans but barefoot, with his glasses still on.  He knows how much you love him in glasses so he almost always wears them for you.

You hate to disturb him to take them off.  He's been working so hard lately he can use all the rest he can get.  You're okay with him sleeping away the entire short time you have together.  Seeing pictures of him smiling wearily through all of the necessary appearances was tearing your heart out but he was nothing if not dedicated.

In sleep, all of the lines and crinkles on his expressive face are softer, fine etching punctuated with a pock mark here, a scar there, the little mole on his right cheek.  That nose that still makes you want to bite it twitches and that slightly crooked mouth falls open a little.  It's not a perfect face but it's perfect to you. 

When you lean over to try to remove his glasses, he stirs with a sexy, sleepy groan, wrapping one of those gloriously big hands around your wrist and pulling you down next to him.

"Sorry I dozed off on you, baby," he says.  His voice is rough from sleep and more gravely than usual, stirring something in your belly and farther down.

"It's fine," you say, brushing his wild bed head hair out of his eyes.  He's growing it out for work and it's getting so long.  It's frustrating the hell out of him but you love it.  You love it any way he wears it but now there's more to grab.  "I was just going to take your glasses off."

"Just my glasses?" he says, chuckling. 

"For now," you say, removing and setting them out of harm's way on the nightstand.  You take his face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the dark circles under his beautiful eyes.  "You should sleep, horndog."

"You know how I get when you wear my stuff.  And with these pretty little panties?  Come on."  You're wearing nothing but skimpy peach satin and lace side tie panties, thick, slouchy socks, and the sweater he kept from Mission Impossible, the one you jokingly call "the sweater of sex" because you can't help but want to jump his bones every time he wears it.  He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close.  His fingers trace your spine as he eases a hand under the sweater, and then slides it down into the panties to palm your ass.  Squeezing, he urges you closer, until you can feel him growing hard against your belly.  He nudges your legs apart with his knee to torment you with a hard thigh.  "I know you want to."

"Do I?" you say, with a confused pout.  He's so much fun to tease when he gets like this.  But between the roaring fire, being bundled up in his big sweater, and him keeping you up late last night, you're drowsy too.  "Let me nap with you now and I'll do you right later."

"Cruel woman," he breathes in your ear, nibbling the lobe and trailing kisses down your throat.  He unzips the sweater at the neck to reveal your cleavage and slips his hand inside to cup your breast, catching the jutting nipple between two fingers and pinching softly.  "You better or I may have to punish you.  Maybe I will anyway."  You can feel him smiling against your skin.

"Either way, I win," you say, wiggling your eyebrows and laughing.

"You're awfully cute for a perv," he says.

"I am, aren't I?" 

"And for a brat, too."  He pins you down and teases you with little pecking kisses that have you straining for more and pouting for real.  He pulls back enough to stare into your eyes, then smiles at whatever he sees there and gives you the long, drugging kisses you crave.  When you get a hand free and sink it into his messy, silky soft hair to hold him there, he retreats with a chuckle.  "You did say after nap time, right?"

"That's just mean."  You roll over in a huff but soon you're biting your lip to keep from cracking up.  He scoots up behind you and snakes a hand up under the sweater again, this time feathering his fingertips over the ticklish spot on your ribs.  When that doesn't break you, he goes to work on your neck, sucking on and nuzzling his scruffy face against that ultra-sensitive place on the right side that makes you gasp and giggle like an idiot.  You try to wiggle away but he won't let you go.

"Bastard," you sputter, vibrating with laughter.

“Your bastard," he says, tracing your ear with his tongue.  "Now come on and let's get this nap shit done.  I don't even know if I can sleep now," he grumbles, readjusting himself with a grimace. 

That is total bullshit because he pretty much falls asleep as soon as he stops moving, which isn't often, especially not lately.  He molds his body to yours and snuggles you like his own life-size teddy bear, one arm pillowing your head and the other draped beneath your breasts.  His cock might as well be bare, so hot and hard against your ass you're not sure if you'll be able to fall asleep either.

Soon enough, the heat from the fire and his body start working their magic.  You're surrounded by him, by his scent, in the sweater and on him.   His warm breath is ruffling the hair on top of your head.  You feel him start to relax but then he shifts his hand up to your breast, holding you closer, claiming you silently.  You live for moments like this, now so few and far between. 

~

You awaken slowly, feeling him shifting around behind you and then the kiss of his warm, naked legs against yours.  You fumble a hand back to find that he's stripped down to nothing.  Before you can say anything, his fingers are plucking at the bow at your hip and the scrap of lace covering you falls away.  "Nap time is over," he murmurs in your ear, palming your pussy possessively.

"Ok," you agree, still muzzy and limp from sleep.  "Help me take this off."  You struggle to get untangled from him so you can remove the sweater.

"No, leave it."  He rolls you onto your back and shoves it up, dipping his head to tease your nipples with the tip of his tongue.  Errant strands of hair fall forward, the ends trailing across your skin, making you shiver with anticipation. 

You hold your breath as he skims his hand back down, slowing to trace his middle finger around your navel, his pinky grazing your trimmed bush.  Your eyes meet and he smiles like he's got a secret, just his mouth turning up a tiny bit at the corners.  He dips his long fingers into your wetness and his head down to capture your moan with his mouth, his tongue flicking against yours, mimicking his finger on your clit.

The fire has died down, leaving the room mostly in shadow, but his eyes burn bright as ever.   Even in a crowded room, an innocent glance from him can send you reeling.  Now his gaze drifting over your writhing body is like an extra pair of hands, caressing your skin, leaving sparks in its wake.  You feel yourself going up in flames, burning to ash as he watches, every little kiss and whispered word like gas, making you blaze hotter.

Guiding your leg back over his hip and spreading you wide, he fills you slowly from behind, stoking the embers of your orgasm, making you whimper and clutch at his hand, fingers still toying with you.

He replaces his hand with yours, bringing his up to hold your face, his wet thumb stroking your mouth, pressing inside.  "I want you to come again," he says.  "For me."

You don't say anything; you don't need to.  You will.  You always do. 

You close your eyes to focus on the perfection of him fucking you slow and steady, your fingers working your clit.  His breathing is fast and shallow as he makes dirty promises in your ear.  His hand drops to your throat, tightening as he gets close, not enough to hurt or choke, just enough to let you know you’re his.  It’s the thing that pushes you over and he’s right behind you, devouring your mouth like he won’t get another chance to kiss you.

These are the moments you live for, the ones that get you through all the time when he’s not around.  These are the moments when nothing else matters.  These moments are everything.


End file.
